


A Study in Espionage

by BenaddictedCumberbabe



Category: James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Agent!John Watson, F/M, Fusion, Implied MorMor, Implied Relationships, John Watson x OC/Reader, Spy!John Watson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenaddictedCumberbabe/pseuds/BenaddictedCumberbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being literally shot in to years of non-field work, John Watson steps up to go on another mission. With the help of Agent Weiss, they track down the man behind linked killings of military officers. </p><p>For A Dear Friend Named Sarah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yanked Back

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm sorry if anything is off! I'm not a spy myself, after all.)

**It had** been a year or two since Captain Doctor John Watson had been in the field. The last mission he was in resulted in his left arm nearly being blown off. Since then, he had occupied himself by visiting the Quartermaster's laboratory. Q was an old childhood friend named Sherlock Holmes. Only a few other people actually knew that they were already friends, so naturally people talked the minute the two reunited. Despite others implying the pair having a...romantic relationship, they still continued chatting together during work and seeing each other afterwards. It was what made John forget about his PTSD in his leg, have an easier time in physical therapy, and feel safe to go back to business again. He had been observing the inventory being designed and made, after all. John even had some of his own ideas created.

  Yet when he got the call to go on a mission, he felt reluctant. His reluctance was only temporary as he learned why he was needed. Military officers who were going to join the MI6 were being killed off mysteriously by the week. They were sniped down after any of their tracking devices had been destroyed. Their bodies would be washed away in rivers to be found by civilians. This only made the agent's blood boil from rage, and a familiar lust had also materialized. The lust to fight. The lust to explore. The lust to wear that suit and hold that pistol with pride, strutting about. He rendered himself capable, proving it through a fitness test. Finally, at least a week later, he was flown out to Ireland, where the murders were most prevalent. 

• 0 • 0 • 7 •

  "It seems that we are providing you a partner." Sherlock's voice drawled jealously on the other end of the phone. 

  John sighed and sat back, looking out the window of the plane. England's patchwork surface was replaced by dark blue waters. The private jet's shadow fell across the rippling waves.   
  

  "Oh? What's his name?" 

  "Agent Weiss. German. Skilled in a variety of weaponry." Sherlock retorted promptly. 

  "Why do we have a German tagging along?" John asked.

  It didn't bother him in the slightest, but he was curious as to why they'd need assistance from someone not in the MI6. 

  "Weiss knows a considerably large amount of information about one of our suspects, Sebastian Moran." The Quartermaster explained absently, "The suspect used to go to university with Weiss."

  "You seem irritated." John grinned although Sherlock couldn't see him. 

  Sherlock was easy to read to John. Sherlock loved solving puzzles and crimes if possible within his busy work days. He loved inventing and experimenting, doing the latter more often. Sherlock probably wanted to tag along himself; however, they both knew it would be better for the intelligent man to stay at the HQ in case he found out a way to track the murderer down. 

  "Weiss will meet you at the hotel." Sherlock added flatly, ignoring John's comment. 

  John hummed lazily in acknowledgment, nodding a thanks to the flight attendant as she gave him a small glass of wine. He studied it, swirling it weakly. 

  "...John, do be careful out there. Do you have your pistol loaded?" Sherlock asked in a more gentle yet still firm tone. 

  "Of course."

  "Is it hidden? Easy for you to retrieve?"

  "Yep."

  "Do you have your radio? Grappling hook gun? Emergency grenade?" Sherlock rifled off. 

  "Sherlock, calm down, yes. It's all tucked away." John said lightly. 

  He knew Sherlock was just genuinely worried, especially since John hadn't been out and about in so long. 

  "Alright..." Sherlock trailed off. 

  Suddenly there was a tinkling sound of glass shattering from Sherlock's side of the call. 

  "Molly, _do try_ to look where you're going!" Exclaimed Sherlock, pulling the phone away so he wouldn't deafen John. 

  He sighed, pulling the phone back to his ear. John was contemplating what to say.

  "I have to go. Molly has just knocked over my experiment...Now there's acid burning through the lab table. Have a safe trip, John."

  "I guess you're the one who needs to be careful," Chuckled John, "Bye Sherlock."

  He placed the phone down, switching it off. What was Weiss like then? Probably some big burly blonde with the most gruff, accented voice and bulging veins. John shuddered. Better get along as well as possible and more with Weiss. John Watson had been a "big bad officer" in the Royal Army Medical Corps, but his size was rather small compared to other men in general. He decided to relax. Maybe suggest to the other man that they should go out for a pint to get to know one another. Right. Exactly what he'll do...He took a nap, afraid he'll never get the chance to again while on the mission. 

• 0 • 0 • 7 •

  Within the sparse minutes of getting to Ireland, John had slumbered himself in to feeling revived and ready. He rubbed his eyes, watching the plane circle than land on the small airfield. He was ushered in to a car after being told to change in to something casual. His little suitcase was tossed in beside him, and the little car drove away. The agent sighed, looking down at himself. It was at least _his_ choice of clothing: a comfy jumper, a pair of good old jeans, and brown loafers. He adjusted the plaid button up shirt under the jumper, and stole a glance out the tinted windows. All he could see was countryside. At least it was pretty. The air was a bit more humid, and as John guessed, they were near the coast of the island country.

  After a while, they pulled in to a small village. It was quiet, old worn out cottages perched around the main road. There wasn't a person in sight, despite the open doors of shops and cafes.The driver went left, through a small lane fenced by tall hedges. The hedges gave way and avoided one another to encircle a cottage. The cottage slumped, but had at least three floors if you counted an attic. Vines grew up it's walls along with roses and other flowers. A small fountain sat outside in the middle of the pebbled covered front yard. The water protruded halfheartedly upwards from it, sprinkling on to John a bit as he got out of the car. Before he could wipe the droplets off, an older woman ran out to greet him. 

  "Hello, darling! I'm Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. Welcome to my inn." She smiled sweetly, "Let me get that!" She took his bag.   
"Mrs. Weiss is already here."

  Johns face flushed pink. Mrs? Mrs Weiss? Oh God. Now that he thought about it, Sherlock had avoided saying he or she while talking about the German. The spy had simply assumed his partner was a man. And he was swept off, the little old lady's free hand around his, tugging him in to the inn. 


	2. The Sleepy Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets his new partner.

**John's** heart was in his throat. Oh, God. _Oh, God!_ A _woman_? It wasn't that he didn't like women. Oh, no. No, no. He was _most certainly_ attracted to them. He ironically lacked confidence when it came to actually courting one, though. John reminded himself they'd be working as partners and that he'd have to get over this. Mrs. Hudson took him through the narrow door in to a lobby that resembled a family friendly pub. Quaint. It was dim, and the ceiling was low. John noticed a looming staircase to the right. The landlady led him up and up until they reached the attic. (The third floor, as John expected.) They approached a room at the end of the hall, a room facing the back garden. John swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. 

  _You invaded Afghanistan_ , he reminded himself as Mrs. Hudson opened the door. 

  And there she was. Agent Weiss. Standing in front of a window and gazing out. Then she turned. She was younger, but not by much. Just his height if not shorter. Brown short hair that looked so soft. Matching hazel eyes. John felt his heart skip a beat as she smiled at him and came over. 

  "Hello, Doctor Watson." She held a hand out, which he grasped gently and shook, "I'm Lieutenant Sarah Weiss." 

  "Uh, You can call me John. Nice to meet you Lt. Weiss." He smiled bashfully, his ears burning pink.

  _Oh my,_ he immediately thought.

  That accent, although faint, was throwing him off the edge. His hand stayed a second too long on hers, practically forcing himself to pull away. Her skin wasn't rough, but not too fragile. Natural. He tore his eyes away from her to look at the room.

  "I hope you find it comfortable." Mrs. Hudson piped up.

  "Oh, yes. It's very cozy..." His smile loosened to a calmer one, strolling over to the empty bed to sit on it. 

  The other had been obviously used although it was made. Several of Lt. Weiss' things were on the base of the used bed. Sarah sat down against the window sill, watching him curiously as the man observed the area. Mrs. Hudson smiled at the two again. 

  "Well I better be off! Have fun you two!"

  The man blushed again before realizing Mrs. Hudson was obviously part of the MI6 (or had been one of them.) She did have an English accent despite living in Ireland, and the agents were allowed to stay there and be theirselves. Her choice of words wasn't a euphemism then...The old woman left, closing the door behind her. John looked back at Sarah shyly. 

  "Care for a pint? Or some lunch?" 

  Sarah's lips curled in to a smile. 

  "Ah, Why not? Our mission doesn't start until tomorrow."

  He stood and grinned again. So far, so good. She mirrored him, getting to her feet.

  "I think I saw a nice cafe down the lane...Maybe we can get to know one another." His eyes twinkled as he crossed the room and held the door open for her. 

  "Of course." She retorted while passing through the door.

• 0 • 0 • 7 •

  "Which part of Germany are you from?" John asked as they traveled down the hedged lane. 

  "Munich." 

  Clouds rolled across the sky above them, the sun shining down on the pair. Her hair and eyes were ablaze in the light. John couldn't help but stare. 

  "Oh? I'm from London. We're both from the city, then." 

  She nodded with a gentle smile. They entered the cafe, Sarah first. They were seated at a small table towards the back, a more private area. The waitress took their drink order, leaving as quickly as she had appeared. John bit his lip as his knees knocked in to hers as they climbed in to their seats.

  "S-Sorry..." He mumbled, passing her a menu. 

  Sarah gave him a warm smile, but it was more to herself as she looked down at it.

  "Thanks..." 

  "Uh, yeah, no problem...So, what do you like to do?" 

  _Oh, Goodness, that's so cliche!_ , he thought angrily to himself.

  "Well, drawing and writing...I like to run and ride my bike.." 

  "Really? I use to enjoy running...I stopped doing over the minium because I got lonely." He chuckled.

  He earned a few giggles from her, a smile easing itself back on to his features.

  "I enjoy reading, as well...May I read your works one day?"

  "Sure." She offered a smile, "I haven't showed anyone one that I think you may like...If you're in to crime novels."

  He grinned, "Really? I'd be ever so glad to read it! I love mysteries and crime novels."

  The moment was broken as the waitress appeared again. 

  "Lunch is on me." Clarified John, "And you're free to choose anything, no matter what price." 

  Sarah's eyes widened slightly, "Are you sure...?"

  John smiled, "Of course!"

  Sarah ordered, then John.

  "Are you sure?" She asked again as the woman walked away.

  "Yes, don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to make up for it if you must." He teased gently, making her smirk in return.


	3. Suspect 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John protects what he claims as his during a trip down the lane.

  **It turned** out John had more in common than he thought with the charming Ms Weiss. It seemed their free day had only lasted for so long... They had discussed their favorite books and movies, even watched one together on the small TV opposite of their beds. (John kept giggling at a few bits, making Sarah grin or laugh along.) They shared what they thought about characters and the plot. After dinner with Mrs Hudson, they began speaking about work. Sarah explained they'd have to go undercover at a ball hosted by one of the suspects. They'd also have to "inspect" a farm of an old retired hunter.If any of them were found suspicious, the two agents were to notify the MI6 and pull out nonchalantly.

  "I reckon we should get to bed..." John yawned, clicking the TV off.

  Sarah nodded, yawning seconds afterwards. She laid back, already clad in her pajamas. The Englishman's face flushed. He usually slept in just boxers, but it would be rude to do so in front of her. It was so hot and stuffy though! Especially with the UK's heat wave!

  "S-Sarah, may I crack the window open?"

  "Of course, it's baking." She replied, giving him a tiny smile.

  A weight was taken from his shoulders as he opened the window between their beds. Now he could bear wearing his undershirt and shorts in the heat. Sarah rolled back over, and John quickly stripped off his clothes. He climbed in to bed, shutting off the lamp.

  "Sweet dreams, Sarah..." He whispered, smiling as he faced her.

  She lifted her head, wishing him a good night in return. He cocooned himself within the duvet, peeking out to watch the female's body. Her body moved subtly, showing her breathing was shallow.

_Wow. I managed to tire her out with movies and conversation...Ugh, she may be jet lagged. I hope I didn't make her feel worse..._

  He admired her muscle toned body, feeling his face heat. A warm sensation like electricity shot through out his body.

  _No, stop! You're being creepy! Yes, she's gorgeous, but look away!_

  He shut his eyes, holding a pillow to his chest. He drifted off to sleep, memories replaying in his mind during his slumber. 

* * *

  John felt ridiculous. He was in a pair of overalls and a plaid button up shirt. A farmer's hat crowned him. Sarah looked far nicer. She wore a pair of denim shorts and a plaid button up that matched John's. He snuck a glance at her, walking down a country lane with her to the farm.

_God. It looks kind of cute on her._

  She looked over at him and smirked.

  "Nice outfit."

  "Ah, this?" He chuckled, snapping his overall straps.

  "Got your gun and equipment ready but concealed?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She turned away, smirking wider to herself. He noticed, wondering if he had sounded silly addressing her as ma'am.

  "Got your disguise props?" She asked.

  "Yep. Clipboard with a check off list. Also have a few test tubes and gloves for sampling."

  "Great." She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a white tank top underneath.

  "Hot?" He asked her, trying not to look like he was watching.

  "Very." She wiped her forehead, looking up at the cloudless sky.

  "I brought water if you'd like a bottle." John hoped he didn't sound too eager.

  "Maybe afterwards, thank you. I don't want to have to go to the restroom as we're there." She grinned at him, pulling a chuckle out of the uneasy man.

  "Good point...It's a good thing I haven't cracked mine open yet."

  They finally came across a break in the hedges, leading to a private lane. It led out to the middle of the green field. There sat an old cottage and barn. Chickens pecked around aimlessly around the house, and cows and horses could be heard from the barn. A cracking noise sounded off through the air from the back of the house. John scanned the sides of the cottage in an attempt to figure out who had fired the gun.

  "Great." Sarah mumbled to John.

  "Yeah..." He cleared his throat, calling out with an Irish accent, "Hello?! We're here to do the annual mandatory check up on your farm!"

  _Christ. I sound so stupid and unprofessional. Am I anxious?!_

  He heard the clatter of a rifle being pushed against a wall. He instinctively stepped a bit in front of Sarah protectively as a man rounded the corner of the house.

  "Inspection? Already?" The gruff voiced man asked as he approached them.

  It was difficult not to laugh. The man was shorter than John, had a bushy ginger beard with grey patches, and waddled. The agent put on his best poker face, nodding curtly. He produced an ID from his pocket and showed it to the farmer. The older man squinted at it, adjusting his cap.

  "I'll take you through my land then...You two are new." The grumpy man turned and led them to the place he materialized from.

  John smiled at Sarah, glad he was taller than their suspect. As they went the back of the house, John saw the rifle-a Winchester. He ticked several boxes off, analyzing the area.

_Winchester. Popular._

  He exchanged glances with Sarah. They both knew which rifle they were looking for: A Remington. They went through the barn, which had an adjoined shed. John peered in as Sarah discussed the area with the retired hunter. 

  _Dammit. I don't see it...it's not going to be easy, though._

  He glanced back to the pen beside the door to the shed. A couple lambs trotted around inside to their mother. He knelt, "inspecting" them. Out of his peripheral vision, he watched as the man showed Sarah the cows. The agent straightened up a bit, dazzled by her hands moving so gracefully with her pen as she wrote marks down.  A blush broke across his cheeks, shaking the thoughts away.

  _Pervert! You look like a pervert! Stop! Why does she make so anxious?_  
 

  He suddenly smiled and stood up, looking at the other animals and scribbling marks. He knew why. It had been a while since he had really fallen for a woman. Delight filled his chest. The well was poisoned almost immediately as he looked back and saw the old man flirting with Sarah.  
 

  "Who knew such a pretty young lady would get herself caught in a job like this." The old farmer chuckled, in a cowboy stance.

  
 _Disgusting._

 

  He stepped up beside his partner, clearing his throat. There was a feigned nervous smile on Sarah's face.  
 

  "She's taken." John lied, grinning smugly as he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders.  
 

  A shy smile replaced her fake one, and she looked down. The farmer raised a brow, and John gestured to the exit.  
 

  "Shall we go check up on your crops, Mister..." He checked his clipboard, "McCullough?"  
 

  McCullough sniffed and turned, waddling past them towards his potato patch. John bravely winked at Sarah, slipping his arm away reluctantly. She smiled widely back before they caught up with their suspect.  


_Well. He flirted with a woman at least 40 years younger than him. Then looked skeptical when I  got in the way...I should stop trying to deduce. I'm not bloody Sherlock Holmes. McCullough certainly is a dirty old man, though._

  He slipped his hand inside Sarah's, giving it a squeeze, before pulling it back out. He got on his knees, but he remained beside the female in a guarding fashion. The blonde haired man took out a tube, scooping some dirt out of the patch. McCullough watched warily from the corners of his watery eyes. John pocketed it.

  "So, _Terrence_ , how long have you worked with our council?" The Irishman spat.

_Terrence? Oh, me! Right!_

  John made a thinking expression, stopping what he was doing.

  "About...5 years at least. I've lost track...especially after meeting this lovely woman there." He grinned back at Sarah.

  She let out a fake giggle, convincing enough to the gruff farmer that he nodded. John put the tube away before standing, and he brushed his trousers off. The three began heading further through the field. They approached the cabbage patch, and Sarah dipped down to grab a sample of the earth.

  "What about you then, Ms.?" McCullough cocked an eyebrow at Sarah.

  She slid the tube in to John's hand, and brushed her hands off. She glanced at the horizon and furrowed her brows.

  Not too quickly but not too slowly, she retorted with, "Possibly a bit longer. Maybe 8 years. The name is Ava. Ava O'Sullivan."

  "Oh?" The old man watched her stand, boiling John's blood, "Do you know what your last name means?"

  "Yes. The hawk-eyed ones." Sarah brushed a lock of her fringe back.

  "Appropriate last name." John piped up, "May we look at your corn now?"

  John looked over the field, noticing a lone shed at the end of the field. As the three approached it, John flicked his eyes over to it whilst handing Sarah a tube. Sarah nodded once, taking the tube. Their fingers brushed past one another, sending shivers down the male's spine. He subtly watched Sarah deliberately drop to her haunches in front of McCullough. John took the chance to look bored and glance at the shed. 

  _Wonderful...A window._

  "Ever worked on a farm, Ava?" John heard as he silently went towards the shed.

  "Yes, actually." Sarah scooped up some earth, studying it in the sunlight as she held it up.

  The blond turned, seeing McCullough absorbed with Sarah's figure. She had purposefully perked her chest out. He angrily ripped his eyes away, glad at the same time that the farmer was distracted. He peered in to the dusty window. 

  _Two rifles..._

  "Anywhere around here?" The Irishman asked as John flipped a paper on his clipboard up.

  It revealed specific details about the model of the rifle. John hurriedly looked back before leaning towards the glass. 

  _Definitely a Remington...not the right kind, though..._

  "Ever heard of Dalkey?" Sarah asked, scooping another tube of dirt.

  Before McCullough could reply, John strode back over, announcing, "I believe we are finished here."

  John affectionately patted Sarah's head, and she stood up eagerly. Sarah pecked his cheek, making John grin. 

  _She's only doing that to sell the act...,_ He told himself, but held her hand dearly as they left.

 

  

 

 

  
 


	4. The Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which agents Watson and Weiss go to another suspect's home.

_Found a Remington in the shed at end of his field. Wasn't the right type. -JW_  
  
 _Doesn't matter. Send your samples in. We'll have another set of agents search his house. You need to get to that ball tomorrow night. -SH_  
  
 _Right then. -JW_  
  
  Agent Watson looked up from his phone, over to Ms Weiss. She was studying the articles of her suitcase, and John was lounging on his bed.  
 

  "What are you up to?"  
 

  "Planning for tomorrow...I've apparently got a mysterious date to a masquerade ball. He's French." She smiled at him cheekily.  
 

  "Ugh, really?" John chuckled, "I've got to be bloody French?"  
 

  "Unfortunately, it seems so, Mr. Oliver Aude."  
 

  "What about you, madame?" He asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.  
 

  "I'm Greek. Nicolette Manago. "  
 

  John smiled and got up, heaving his suitcase on to his bed. He opened it and retrieved his suit. The man slid a hanger into it's sleeves, and draped the trousers within another hanger. He delicately hooked the hangers on to the door of his cupboard.  
 

  "That looks rather handsome." Sarah claimed quietly.  
 

  "Oh, thank you...What does your dress look like?"  
 

  She grinned, "You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

  John simply chuckled in return, and respectfully waited. When the time came to see her, he was already dressed himself. It was a simple tuxedo with long coat tails, imported from (of course) France. The suit was standardly black and white, with a rose pinned to the front. The flower was a dark blue -navy blue. He wondered if it was naturally grown that way as he straightened it.

_Surely her dress has to be of the same color..._

_  
_He looked over to a mirror on the wall this time, adjusting his waistcoat hiding underneath his lapeled coat. John shifted his cummerband. He absently played with the mask in his hands, turning it over and over. The mask was white and ridiculously sparkly for a man like him.

  _Why am I bothering with all this?_ He thought flusteredly.

  John obviously knew exactly why, but was too stubborn to admit it. He was nervous because he was growing fond of Sarah - _swiftly_. He barely knew the young woman, but felt as if he was already infatuated. Everything about her was so...appealing. Her smile that made her eyes crinkle. Her background of military service, just like him. Sarah's intelligence and grace during the one secton of the mission so far.   Suddenly, he heard Mrs. Hudson let out a "Yoo-hoo!"as she descended the stairs with Sarah in tow. The agent willingly raised his head. He stood, eyes wide.

   _Christ, she is phenonmenal._

Sarah's silk dress was extravagant, flowing out from her hips and sparkling ever so slightly. The top was tighter, defining her chest without revealing much. John had been right about the color. Additionally, it had white laced designs crawling up from the hem of her skirt. Sarah's hair was pulled back, and her face was hidden by a mask. It was black, matching her shoes, glittered with white sparkles to bring attention to her eyes. The breathtaking figure swayed over to him and stopped expectantly in front of him. Sarah's lips tugged into a smirk, her hands tightening each other's black gloves as she waited.

  "You. Wow. Sorry. It's just so lovely." He smiled sheepishly for the (God-know's-what) time before taking her hand and kissing it softly. 

  She grinned back, and complimented his suit for being just as swell. They made their way outside, and departed in a cab quietly. Agent Watson looked over shyly to her in the car, head down. This made him realize her shoes were quite nice: heeled, laced boots. Noticing him notice, Sarah's hand slid down and raised her dress ever so slightly. Doing so revealed a gun strapped to the boot. No wonder her skirt was so conserving. They exchanged smiles. John decided to take advantage of their false identities. He slid an arm around her waist, and pecked her cheek.

 " _Extraodinaire, amour._ "

  He cringed at his accent, and the two burst in to quiet giggles.

_  
_


	5. Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pair make an entrance.

  John stared up at the endless mansion beyond them. It was surrounded by lush green shubbery and blossomed flowers, with tall fountains and benches to top it all off. Perhaps he could bring Sarah around these labryinth like gardens later on...Share a couple bonding moments...

_What am I thinking!? I'm on a mission! I'm going to get myself-._

 A soft nudge brought him back down to earth.

 " _Polyagapi̱ménos [1]_ , you seem star struck." Sarah muttered quietly.

  "Oh, ye- _Oui [2]_ , _oui_. I'm fine." 

  _Get it together._

  She gave him a comforting smile, and continued leading him down the stone path.

  "You're not _nervous_ , are you?" Sarah smirked cheekily, "I know we don't usually go out, but it's not like we're never together. So unexpected of a Frenchman." She giggled quietly.

  John flushed gently, but reminded himself she was just acting. Or was she flirting for real? No, why would-.

  "No, of course not, Nicolette." He chuckled deeply, stopping to nuzzle her cheek. 

  "You naughty girl! Trying to fluster me...Lets try to make it through the party before you start that." 

   _Wow. That was easy. Since its just acting..._

  Acting or not,  John still felt wonderfully high. Sarah had started him up with courage for the night, and the warm scent of her perfume was just an extra incentive. He wrapped his arm a little tighter about her waist as they started walking again. Eventually the path gave way to a small courtyard surrounding the entrance. The heavy wooden front doors were thrown open invitingly. A short line was formed just in front of them. The other guests were just as lavishly dressed, if not more posh. Again, John tensed and stared from behind his mask. 

  "Oliver." Cooed a soft voice.

  John snapped his attention back to Sarah, who had a hand extended to him. 

  "Do you have a pen? We have to sign in."

  "Ah, yes, here." He patted down his front tuxedo pocket before extracting a pen from it.

  He handed it to her, brushing their fingers past one another's. His heart fluttered quicker. After what felt like hours, they were able to check in and enter. John gaped once more at the interior, but was more subtle as he pretended to be lost as he took his 'fiancee' to the dining room. They followed the crowd, getting closer and closer to one another.

  "Keep an eye out for the host." Sarah muttered.

  "Moran, yeah?" He whispered back, lips brushing against her ear accidentally.

  She nodded, turning to kiss his cheek. He blushed darkly, surprised. Even with masks, Sarah knew exactly what his emotions were. Sarah simply smirked, and took advantage of the affectionate gesture.

  "Blonde, tall, and scarred." She breathed against his cheek.

  "Sounds a bit like me." He grinned.

  "Minus the height."

  John chuckled at this, playfully swatting her hip, not wanting to go too far with it. (Besides, he couldn't get a good hit at her bum in such a poofy dress.) They finally found a table with their names: Aude and Manago. The pair sat down at the small table, and scanned the room together. The dining room was round, looking more like a ball room. At the opposite side of the doors was a stage. John froze as he felt Sarah lean on to him. She once again pressed her lips close to his ear, and in an attempt to mask his true emotions (bloody flustered), he pulled a knowing smirk.

  "You're not used to such extravagent places, are you?" 

  He swallowed, face heated.

  _Maybe they'll think I'm turned on...,_ He thought self-assuringly before leaning to reply.

  "Yes. Growing up, it wasn't like this. Wasn't like this after I joined the army's medical corps, nor after the MI6."

  "I have to admit I'm not excatly used to it, either..." She smiled, carressing his cheek softly before pressing a kiss to his nose.

   Blood was rushing to John's head. It was all so overwhelming, yet dreamlike. He wasn't sure if Sarah's actions were true, for he knew they were on a mission, not an actual date. Yet everything she did was so convincing, even to him, that it looked genuine. Luckily, a loud chime distracted the posed love birds, and they turned their attention to the stage.

 

  

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Greek for darling, truelove, beloved  
> [2] French for yes


	6. Suspect 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pair meet their second suspect.

  "Welcome to my manor! Dinner will be served shortly! I wanted to thank you all! Firstly for coming, secondly for being such great trade partners and employees!" Boomed an amplified voice, echoing clearly. 

  A tall, thin man with close cropped hair walked across the stage: Sebastian Moran. His supposedly scarred face was covered with a mask as well. 

  "I'd like to make a special shout out to our newest partners: Mr. Aude and Ms. Manago! Welcome!"

  John tensed, but stood quickly and made an extravagant bow. Sarah mimicked his movement. 

  "Now, I hope you all like potato soup and pasta..."

  John turned to Sarah, who winked behind her mask. Having a real conversation wasn't a choice. Instead, as they ate they improvised together. They talked of an imaginary wedding they were having in the Swiss Alps next year. They fed each other, pretending to gaze at one another as they actually kept their eyes out for anything suspicious. The only genuine exchanges were the passings of food and knowing smirks. Moran was sitting on stage eating with a few other men. Shortly after desert was served, though, he was suddenly gone. John's eyes scanned the room, and found his target. He was making his way through the crowd. 

  "He's coming over." John muttered as he ladled up some soup. 

  Their host stopped about a foot away, analyzing them. 

  "May I?" He asked, gesturing to the extra chair. 

_Strange. Each table has exactly the right amount of seats for each party plus an extra. Planned._

  John nodded, grinning. 

  "Ah, _Monsieur [1]_ Moran! You have fine taste!" He threw his hands up, looking around. 

_I look like a bloody fool._

  Sarah simply giggled with a curt nod, straight backed. Moran looked closely at her as he sat down. She pretended not to notice, sipping her wine. John cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. 

  "Well, thank you...I'm sorry to say, it seems I've forgotten what we trade together."

  John's heart skipped a best, buying himself time by laughing. 

 "Various items!" Sarah piped up, "From me, extravagant dresses and fabrics. Seeds and such. Pastries and recipes from my dear fiancée here!"

  Moran nodded slowly, eyes still studying her. John didn't like it. As if Sebastian could sense it, he turned to John once more. He stared hard at him as well. 

  "Well Oliver, thank you again for coming."

  " _Oui_ , thank you!"

  Sebastian stood, nodded, and strutted to the next table. John kept a grin, waving with a "ta-ta". Sarah continued smiling as well. Eventually Sebastian left that table, and got farther and farther away as he hopped around other ones. Sebastian found his way back on to the stage, claiming his microphone again. 

  "As our dinner comes to an end, our local band will be playing..."

  John sighed, looking up to Sarah. He gave a soft, weak smile.

  "Care to dance?" He asked shyly, holding out a hand. 

  Sarah noticed that he dropped the accent and had a different tone. She hesitantly nodded

  "Wait-I have to sterilize our utensils..." She subtly took out a package of wipes. 

  Sarah handed one to him, then cleaned her hands off. She began cleaning off their dishes, utensils, and glasses as the lights dimmed. John handed her his hand again when she was done. She took it, and he gently helped her up. They went to the the middle of the room, joining a gathering of couples. He tentatively placed his hands on her waist, and she wrapped her arms about his neck. He swallowed nervously as she rested her chin on his shoulder, able to whisper in his ear if needed. They began to sway.

  "Relax. Your heart is racing." Her voice was husky, sending a trill up his spine.

  "Oh?" He chukled.

  "It's interesting really...Gives you away." She smirked up at him.

  His face went pink, knowing very well what she meant.

  "Or maybe I'm just that good of an actor."

  "Unlikely."

  They laughed quietly together. Evetually they passed a couple dances, spending the majority of the time watching the others closely. John's head had been filled with thoughts and ideas though, and he decided to go forward with one.

  "Hey...lets go look around..." He suggested, pulling them towards the entrance.

  She nodded, and off they went.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Mister in French


	7. Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we all take turns

  The stars twinkled brightly above, the tall lamps scattered about the garden belittled. The faux couple were slowly moving towards a trickling fountain, in the middle of the hedge maze, and their heads were bowed towards one another.

  " _Oliver,_ " Rasped the woman insistently, "I do feel we should be getting back. It isn't polite, considering we're honorable guests."

  "Ah, but Nicolette," He took her hands into his own amiably, seating her on the edge of the fountain, "I wanted to get away from all that ruckus...Spend some time with you-alone!"

  A grin flourished across his face as he got down on a knee. John and Sarah were previously scaling the mansion grounds, inspecting halls and rooms. They hadn't been caught, for there weren't any traps or cameras. Servants resided to the ballroom and kitchen. Every now and then, Moran's voice echoed throughout the building, revealing his position to the pair: still in the ballroom. No body suspected anything, right? Besides, obviously this man had nothing to hide. Nothing suspicious. Why worry?

  "I don't think now's the best time." Nicolette's gloved hand rested on Oliver's cheek fondly.

  "But I have something to confess." John looked up into Sarah's eyes.

  Oliver's gaudy act was put aside, and was replaced with a softer, thoughtful man. He had dropped the accent, and his hands were tighterand warmer. His eyes were murky with thought. His face relaxed, ironcially due to the pressure and anxiety he craved. Sarah unintentionally leaned forward out of curiousity. 

  "I know it hasn't been long, but these past few days together have been terrific fun... When this is over would you consider-and I know you might be busy, so if if not, I'll understand-would you maybe like to go out as us? Sarah and John?"

  The world paused for a moment. The stars didn't glitter. The water didn't glisten or flow. No one breathed or could move. Couldn't even blink. The laughter had muted, and the wind had ceased. The grass, trees, and hedges did not rustle. No insects chirped. No animals called out. Only a single sound rang quite clear: a simple metallic click.

  Then everything was fast forwarded. The two diverted their attention to the other side of the fountain. John stood quickly, hands leaving Sarah's to retrieve his gun. A pair of arms grabbed him around his middle though, a needle sinking into his side. Sarah had pulled out her own gun. She had also alerted HQ that they were in danger by the subtle squeeze of her earrings. Only John knew they were actually radio transmittors. And only John passed out, was captured, and hidden away.

* * *

 

_Sarah Weiss._   _Brown hair. Green eyes. Or are they hazel? Strong. Witty. Attractive. Distraction._

_"I told you over and over, John. Sentiment: a chemical defect found on the losing side. Love: human error."_

   _Sherlock?_

_"Merely."_

_"John."_

_Sarah?_

_"I told you it wouldn't have been the best time..."_

_Why can't I see anything?_

_"Now we..."_

_Y-Your voice is fading. Wait!_

* * *

"Sarah!" 

  John bolted up, and frantically looked around. Slowly, his eyes adjusted in the dim area. He took in his new surroundings like paper absorbing ink. A medium, concrete brick room surrounded him, and he found he was on a rickety cot. An iron door opposite of him screeched open seconds later.

  "Oliver Aude. How cute." 

  John tried standing, but realized he was firmly chained down by the wrists to the wall behind him. A slim, short figure approached him.

  "Hi. Jim Moriarity." He crouched beside John, smiling eerily. 

  John didn't respond, trying his best to map out his newfound enemy's face.

  "Why, It's nice to meet you too, Captain John Hamish Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers! Ah, but now apart of the MI6? Interesting things happen to Officers, you know, retired or not...I'm sure you've heard." Jim chuckled absently, cocking his head.

  He then leaned forward, breath hitting John's face in shallow bursts.

  "You're girlfriend though...This _Sarah_...That's obviously something genuinely interesting all by itself. Wouldn't you agree? Valuable?" 

  John's bearing held.

  "Hm? Not going to budge? Alright...but that's not going to-."

  "James!" A taller figure appeared, panting.

  "Ah, Sebby!" Jim turned momentarily, waving and putting a single finger up.

  "You've met my darling Sebastian. Looks like your girlfriend will be joing you."

  "James, that's what I came here to discuss...We couldn't track her down." 

  

  


End file.
